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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787373">Gladiator</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aini_NuFire/pseuds/Aini_NuFire'>Aini_NuFire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Musketeer Dragon Riders [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Musketeers (2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Cage Fights, Dragon Riders, Gen, Hurt Aramis | René d'Herblay, hurt Rhaego, hurt Vrita</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:55:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,343</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787373</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aini_NuFire/pseuds/Aini_NuFire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis, Porthos, and their dragons are captured and forced to participate in an underground fighting ring.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Musketeer Dragon Riders [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564573</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>D'Artagnan sat on a picnic blanket in the dragon compound yard, angling a small pocket mirror so it caught the reflection of the sun and sent a spot of shiny light onto the ground. Ayelet pounced. She squawked when she failed to capture the elusive prey and spun around in search of it. D'Artagnan tried to smother a laugh as he shifted the mirror, trailing the beam across the ground. Ayelet went skittering after it.</p>
<p>Constance smacked his arm. "Stop teasing her."</p>
<p>D'Artagnan grinned and waited for the baby dragon to leap on top of the light before quickly pocketing the mirror. "She likes chasing it."</p>
<p>"Yes, but she can never really 'catch' it. It will frustrate her natural instincts." Constance patted the blanket beside her and Ayelet scampered over, lifting her head so Constance could scratch under her chin. "We can start giving her mice to hunt soon," she added. "And when she's older and her wings developed enough to fly, we'll let another dragon take her out to teach her to hunt game. Probably Dragor. He's old and patient enough."</p>
<p>D'Artagnan leaned close to Constance's shoulder. "I love that you know all of this," he said huskily.</p>
<p>"Oh? What else do you love?"</p>
<p>He kissed her neck. "Your kind heart." He moved up to kiss behind her ear. "Your beauty." Then her jaw. "And that you love me."</p>
<p>She giggled and turned so their lips could meet. D'Artagnan never got tired of basking in the beauty and passion of his wife.</p>
<p>Then Ayelet bumped them as she scrambled over their legs and snatched up a piece of cheese from their picnic spread.</p>
<p>"Hey, Ayelet!" d'Artagnan exclaimed.</p>
<p>But she was already throwing her head back and gobbling down the morsel.</p>
<p>"That's not for you," Constance chided, shooing her away from the rest of the food.</p>
<p>Ayelet's head bobbed as though she was about to burp, but it was a hiccup that made her little body jump. She blinked in bewilderment. Then a second hiccup burst forth—and a belch of fire with it.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan and Constance scrambled to their feet as the flames whisked across the picnic blanket and caught their meal.</p>
<p>"What the…" d'Artagnan sputtered.</p>
<p>"Oh dear. I'll get some refroidi." Constance darted off, leaving d'Artagnan to deal with the little fire currently devouring their picnic.</p>
<p>He grabbed the edges of the blanket and tossed it over the flames, then used his boot to try stomping them out.</p>
<p>Ayelet gave herself a sharp shake, but another hiccup and burp of fire punched its way out. She squawked and flapped her wings in distress.</p>
<p>"Whoa, whoa, okay, take it easy," d'Artagnan urged. He took a step toward her, only to jump back when another hiccup spewed a small stream of fire at him. "Constance!"</p>
<p>"Here!" she exclaimed, rushing back with a pouch of refroidi powder. "Um, you'll have to hold her."</p>
<p>D'Artagnan's brows rose sharply as he tried to figure out how exactly he was supposed to do that. But Ayelet was too small for Constance to simply throw the powder at her face and hope to get some of it in her mouth. Plus the baby dragon was fully freaking out now and scrambling around as the hiccups continued to jolt her little body.</p>
<p>Jean came out of the house then. "What's all the racket?"</p>
<p>"Um." D'Artagnan gestured helplessly at Ayelet as she hiccuped and burped fire again.</p>
<p>Jean's eyes widened. "Don't use the refroidi. She's too small and you don't want to make her gag <em>and</em> have the hiccups."</p>
<p>Constance snatched her hand with the powder away as though stung. "Then what do we do?"</p>
<p>"I'll be right back. Keep her away from the buildings."</p>
<p>D'Artagnan exchanged a dubious look with Constance. How exactly were they supposed to herd a baby dragon and not get singed themselves?</p>
<p>The hiccups were coming more violently now and Ayelet was spewing fire nearly nonstop. Jean finally came running back, wearing a pair of very thick gloves. Stepping around behind her, he swooped in to scoop up the baby dragon and held her up on her hind legs with one hand and began to vigorously rub her sternum with the other. She croaked unhappily, unleashing another burst of flame. Jean wrenched his face away but didn't let go. He kept up the rubbing up and down until Ayelet's fire and hiccups finally sputtered out and she sagged limply in his hands. He laid her down on the ground and stroked her back gently as she panted in exhaustion.</p>
<p>"Is she done?" d'Artagnan asked worriedly.</p>
<p>"Hopefully," Jean replied. "But be careful."</p>
<p>He moved back so d'Artagnan could come around and kneel behind her, taking over petting her comfortingly. She let out a plaintive squeak.</p>
<p>"Easy, girl, you're okay now."</p>
<p>"Should we put her to bed?" Constance asked.</p>
<p>"Give her half an hour to make sure they don't come back," Jean answered. He took off the gloves and handed them to Constance, then grimaced at the decimated remains of their picnic.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan gave Constance a wry half smile as she came to sit beside him. "Never a dull moment as dragon parents, huh?"</p>
<p>She just smiled and leaned over to kiss him.</p>
<p>.o.0.o.</p>
<p>Aramis finished the last bite of his apple and tossed the core into some bushes. He washed it down with a swig from his water canteen, then scooted to the edge of the brook to refill it. Across from him, Porthos sat with his back against a tree, still slowly peeling his apple, the rinds dangling in tight, thin curls from the fruit.</p>
<p>Aramis capped his canteen and turned his gaze to scan the sky for signs of their dragons returning. He and Porthos were on their way back to Paris after a mission to the south of France and they'd stopped to rest and let Rhaego and Vrita go hunt.</p>
<p>The skies were clear, so Aramis reclined back against his saddle and adjusted his hat over his face to catch a little nap. Or at least that had been his intent. He heard the small thwack of something hitting the brim of his hat, followed by another a moment later.</p>
<p>"Porthos," he growled.</p>
<p>"What?" his friend replied.</p>
<p>"Knock it off."</p>
<p>There was a beat of silence and then something hit his hat again. Aramis scowled and lifted it off his face to shoot Porthos a dark glower.</p>
<p>Porthos just gave him an innocent look in return. "Wasn't me."</p>
<p>"Then who was it?"</p>
<p>He shrugged. "Dunno. Some feisty squirrel maybe?"</p>
<p>Aramis rolled his eyes. "You're as bad as Rhaego sometimes. Knock it off or I'll have him steal your bandana."</p>
<p>Porthos flashed him a toothy grin. "I'd like ta see him try."</p>
<p>Aramis sighed dramatically. "Fine. I'll let him decide how to get you back. He has a good imagination for that."</p>
<p>Giving up on his nap, Aramis sat up straight again and pulled out one of his pistols to clean and oil instead.</p>
<p>"Best put that away," Porthos said. "They're back."</p>
<p>Aramis huffed and followed Porthos's gaze to the sky where a red and a green dragon were flying toward them. They were still a ways out when something shot through the air—a spiraling net that struck Rhaego square on and wrapped around his entire body, the weighted ends twisting together. Aramis leaped to his feet as his dragon plummeted to the ground. Vrita's shriek echoed across the field and she dove after him.</p>
<p>Porthos swore as he and Aramis snatched up their weapons and bolted into a run. They didn't see Rhaego's crash landing or what was waiting for him on the ground, but someone had fired that damn net. Aramis's heart thundered against his rib cage, amplified by the dragon roar that suddenly rent the air.</p>
<p>They came upon the scene of a dozen men surrounding their dragons. Rhaego was still ensnared in the net, thrashing around on the ground as men with noose poles advanced on him. Several others were facing Vrita, who was hacking and choking as though she'd swallowed some refroidi. One of them lassoed her with a length of chain, dragging her head low so the others could snag her with a noose pole.</p>
<p>Still running full out, Aramis aimed his pistol and fired. The man with the chain jerked and fell. Aramis whipped out his second pistol with his left hand and shot another man, then quickly snapped both back onto his belt and drew his rapier. Porthos let out a raging bellow as he brandished his schiavona and charged.</p>
<p>Four men broke away from the dragons, dropping their poles and chains in favor of their swords. The clash of steel resounded in a discordant screech. Aramis threw flourish aside and fought with unbridled ferocity. Behind his opponents, those blackguards were peeling back part of the net in order to snap a muzzle over Rhaego's face. Several feet away the same was being done to Vrita.</p>
<p>Once the dragons were successfully muzzled, several more men jumped into the fray to overwhelm Aramis and Porthos. Aramis swung viciously at one foe, only for their blades to get locked at the hilts. Someone came at him from behind and slammed the pommel of their sword between his shoulder blades. The force rocketed through his body and dropped him to his knees. Someone grabbed his sword arm and wrenched it back until his elbow nearly popped and his fingers spasmed opened, releasing his weapon. He grunted as his arm was then twisted up and behind him and a boot planted on the back of his knee to keep him on the ground.</p>
<p>Out of the corner of his eye he could see Porthos still fighting, but one of the men was coming up behind him with a chain.</p>
<p>"Porthos!"</p>
<p>The warning did no good; the man threw the chain over Porthos's head and pulled back, catching him across the throat. The varlet practically threw himself to the ground, bringing Porthos down with him. The others swarmed him, divesting him of his weapons and settling multiple blades at his throat even as he struggled and gurgled against the chain crushing his windpipe.</p>
<p>"Stop!" Aramis yelled.</p>
<p>Vrita threw her head back, thrashing desperately to break free from the muzzle and nooses around her neck. A net was thrown over her wings.</p>
<p>One of the men stepped forward and held up a hand. The ruffians restraining Porthos eased up enough to let him breathe.</p>
<p>The man, presumably the leader of this band, looked with interest between the two of them. "Are these your dragons?" he asked.</p>
<p>"They're the King's dragons," Aramis gritted out. "We're Musketeers."</p>
<p>The man arched a brow. "Really? Well, not anymore." He nodded to his men. "Bring them too. I think they'll prove valuable."</p>
<p>Aramis bucked against his captors as his arms were pulled roughly behind his back and lashed with rope. Porthos was bound in similar fashion.</p>
<p>"Get the dragons loaded!" the leader barked.</p>
<p>Vrita and Rhaego continued to thrash but the strength of several men was able to keep them in check. A very large, wide wagon bed with four oxen yoked to it was brought over, and then the men began to drag and poke the dragons into the back of it. Vrita and Rhaego tried to resist, digging in their heels and wrenching away, but these men were efficient and ruthless. They brought out acimite spears they used to jab the dragons' flanks and force them into the back of the cart. Then another heavy net was thrown over them and tied to the sides of the wagon. Aramis clenched his jaw in fury at their treatment. He didn't know what these men wanted with their dragons, but it couldn't be good.</p>
<p>With the dragons secured, the wagon driver snapped the reins on the oxen and started them going. Aramis and Porthos were shoved forward to follow on foot. Porthos stumbled, and Aramis threw him a worried look, unable to see the state of his neck from his current position. Porthos looked more furious than hurt at the moment, so that was a good sign.</p>
<p>They traveled for a ways until they came to a small valley with an old fortress set into the side of the mountain. Their little train was led around to a side entrance—a set of massive doors with a dragon's skull and bones mounted above them. Aramis exchanged a look with Porthos; that wasn't at all forbidding.</p>
<p>The doors were pulled open and they were brought inside into a large underground chamber widely lit with torches. Then the doors shut behind them with an ominous thud and the men started surrounding the dragon cart. The net was pulled back and the noose poles seized to force Rhaego's and Vrita's heads up. Other men brought over metal collars that they snapped around the dragons' necks below the muzzles already chained around their faces. They were dragged backward out of the wagon bed then and held down as their wings were fettered.</p>
<p>"Vrita!" Porthos cried hoarsely as his dragon wailed.</p>
<p>The man in charge gestured sharply at the men still restraining them. "Throw them in a cell."</p>
<p>Aramis struggled as they were torn away from the dragons and forced down a passageway. There were several tunnels in this underground structure, and he couldn't tell if they were in the fortress itself or the adjoining mountain, but they were brought to a row of dungeon cells and divested of their weapons belts before they were unceremoniously shoved into the cage. The door was slammed and locked behind them.</p>
<p>Aramis turned to Porthos. "Let me see your neck."</p>
<p>Porthos grunted. "'M fine." Yet his voice came out slightly crackled.</p>
<p>Aramis skewered him with a no-nonsense glare, and Porthos huffed but angled his head back so Aramis could see. There was some bruising but it wasn't as bad as he'd feared. The high collar of Porthos's coat had provided a bit of a buffer on the sides of his neck.</p>
<p>"No trouble breathing?" Aramis checked.</p>
<p>"Not after the bastard let go of the chain," Porthos growled.</p>
<p>Aramis heaved a breath and turned around. "Can we try to…?"</p>
<p>A moment later he felt Porthos's hands blindly fumbling at his as they both tried to undo the ropes around their wrists.</p>
<p>"Stop squirmin' and let me do it," Porthos huffed.</p>
<p>Aramis sighed and held still as Porthos picked at his bonds until they finally started to loosen. Once free, Aramis turned back around and untied Porthos. It was nice to have their hands free, but they were still in quite the predicament.</p>
<p>"What do you think this place is?" Aramis mused out loud.</p>
<p>"Don' know," Porthos replied as he walked up to the cell bars to peer down the corridor. He gave them an experimental shake, but they were solid iron and built well into the surrounding rock. He let out a frustrated growl. "If they hurt Vrita…"</p>
<p>Aramis felt the same. These men were well prepared when it came to capturing dragons. Were they illegal traders? Poachers? What was in store for their dragons? Or them for that matter?</p>
<p>A short while later the leader of the band of men who'd captured them appeared, lip curled up in a satisfied smirk as he regarded his prisoners. "You both had quite a bit of fight out there. You'll make fine contenders."</p>
<p>"Contenders?" Aramis repeated.</p>
<p>"For the ring. Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough."</p>
<p>"It's treasonous to hold the King's Men," Aramis lobbed back.</p>
<p>The man looked unperturbed. "King's Men? You belong to Gunther now. You and your dragons."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was impossible to tell how much time passed underground without daylight to mark the hours, but Porthos figured he and Aramis had been left to rot in their cell at least overnight. They'd snatched some sleep here and there, teetering between needing the rest and being too tense to find any. When they started hearing noises echoing down the tunnels, Porthos assumed it was morning.</p>
<p>It was still a while before anyone came down their way. Porthos glowered at the man from the day before as he approached their cell with another, burly looking man with a shaved head and wearing an animal pelt as a cloak. That one roved his gaze over the musketeers with an eager gleam in his eye.</p>
<p>"Hm, yes. Fresh meat." He pointed at Porthos. "He fights first."</p>
<p>"I ain't doin' a thing," Porthos growled.</p>
<p>The man scoffed. "You fight, or you die." He flashed them a yellow, toothy grin. "Either way, it'll make for a good show."</p>
<p>"What show?" Aramis asked.</p>
<p>The man sneered. "You'll get your turn." He nodded to his second-in-command and the two left.</p>
<p>Porthos slammed his palm against the bars of their cage.</p>
<p>"Easy, Porthos," Aramis cautioned. "It sounds like you're going to need to save that energy."</p>
<p>He clenched his fists. "What do you think he meant? Some kind o' cage fight?"</p>
<p>Aramis shrugged. "I imagine you'll be finding out soon."</p>
<p>Indeed, it wasn't long before the thug from yesterday returned with three others in tow, all of them armed with pistols which they immediately trained on Porthos and Aramis. Porthos backed away from the bars as the leader unlocked the door.</p>
<p>He gestured to Porthos. "Come on."</p>
<p>Porthos didn't budge.</p>
<p>The man smirked. "You heard what Gunther said: you fight or you die." He drew his own pistol to add to the mix. "What'll it be?"</p>
<p>Porthos glanced at Aramis, then slowly started toward the door. Two of the guards kept their weapons aimed at the marksman in case he tried to rush them. The others kept their distance, not giving Porthos the opportunity to get the jump on them before they could get a shot off. Which meant he was forced to head down the tunnel they directed him through.</p>
<p>The passage eventually narrowed until they came to an iron gate set against the mouth of the shaft. Porthos figured he'd grab the pistol of whoever had to come open it, use them as a human shield in the confined space, and take out the other three.</p>
<p>But none of them moved closer and instead a cog system creaked and the gate rose on its own. Porthos looked between the armed guards and the doorway, clenching his jaw as he realized he had little choice. He stepped through the open gate and into a large, circular pit. No, not a pit—an arena.</p>
<p>Dozens of torches ensconced around the walls high up lit the underground cavern, the bottom of which was a flat stretch of rock and sediment. Nearly twenty feet up, large iron spikes protruded from the walls, creating a pointy partial barrier between the arena and a balcony above winding around the entire circumference. It was cut into the stone, behind spaced arches that provided windows looking down into the pit, and they were filled with spectators.</p>
<p>The iron gate closing behind him made Porthos startle. He then whipped his gaze around the pit. It was lined with gates all around one arc, some small like the one he'd just come through, others much, much larger. Another small one at the opposite end from him opened and a brawny, shirtless man came striding out. He raised his fist high to the audience, earning several cheers, before turning to face Porthos and cracking his knuckles.</p>
<p>Porthos curled his lip. Fine. If these people wanted a fight, he'd give them a fight.</p>
<p>He stalked toward his opponent, the two of them circling initially, sizing each other up. The other guy attacked first, swinging a mighty punch. Porthos threw an arm up to block and delivered a left jab toward the man's stomach. He doubled over from the impact, but it was just a ruse to get close and he head butted Porthos in the abdomen, propelling him back several feet before flinging him to the ground.</p>
<p>The wind got knocked out of him and it took him a full minute to get his breath back. His opponent had backed off in that time, shooting him an unimpressed smirk as the crowd roared. Porthos pushed himself to his feet and charged.</p>
<p>They exchanged several more blows. Losing patience, Porthos finally tackled him to the ground, both of them brawling until Porthos managed to end up straddling the guy and punched his face three times in quick succession until blood splattered the sediment from a split cheekbone and he stopped moving.</p>
<p>Porthos shoved himself away and staggered to his feet. Boos and jeers mixed with wolf whistles and cheers resounded from above. If this had been a fight club in Paris, he might have basked in some of the glory of victory, but in this place, forced into beating the crap out of someone, Porthos's stomach soured.</p>
<p>The two contenders' gates were drawn up. His beaten opponent dragged himself to his feet and limped toward his exit. Porthos glanced at the guards waiting for him at his.</p>
<p>"Come on, then," the leader called. "You don't want to be in the ring for the next fight. Trust me."</p>
<p>Seeing as he didn't have much choice in the matter, Porthos grudgingly walked out of the pit. His guards backed up, still giving him a wide berth so he couldn't easily attack them. The gate closed behind him and he started back down the tunnel, only to stop in his tracks when he heard a dragon's screech, followed by an uproar of cheers. He whipped his gaze back toward the arena and saw a brown, collared dragon entering the ring. His heart dropped into his stomach. He now had an idea of what Vrita and Rhaego were wanted for…</p>
<p>"Keep moving," his captor barked.</p>
<p>Porthos let himself be escorted back to his cell where Aramis was pacing. The threat of getting shot had him backing up as the door was unlocked and Porthos stepped back inside. Then it was locked and the men left.</p>
<p>"Are you all right?" Aramis asked, looking him over. "What happened?"</p>
<p>"I was right," he grunted, shrugging out of his coat since he was sweating quite a bit. "Gunther's runnin' a fight ring. He's got this entire arena and a balcony full of spectators."</p>
<p>Aramis frowned. "I take it you won?"</p>
<p>Porthos shot him a dry look and eased himself to sitting down with a wince. He was going to have a few bruises and aches, but overall he'd had worse from a fight. "It gets worse though," he said grimly. "It looks like he's stagin' dragon fights too."</p>
<p>Aramis stiffened. "Then…"</p>
<p>"Yeah. We need ta find a way out of here."</p>
<p>"We'll be noted as missing soon," Aramis remarked, then sighed. "Not that anyone will find us in an underground fortress," he added dourly.</p>
<p>No. Unfortunately, they'd probably have to rescue themselves. They just had to figure out how they were going to do that. Their best chance would probably be to and from the fight ring, but Porthos had been heavily guarded and finding an opening was going to be difficult. Not to mention then finding their dragons and <em>then</em> the way out of here.</p>
<p>Guards came to them again a while later. One had a plate of gruel which he set on the floor inside the cell.</p>
<p>"Reward for winning your fight," the guy in charge said. He then pointed to Aramis. "You're up next."</p>
<p>Aramis glanced at Porthos, then shrugged out of his coat, leaving it behind as he headed out. Porthos watched darkly as the cell was locked and Aramis led away. He went over and picked up the plate of food, grimacing at the gloopy porridge. His stomach growled, hungry after that fight.</p>
<p>Porthos hesitated before shoving a spoonful into his mouth though. Aramis was a good fighter, and Porthos had taught him most of his own dirty tricks, but they had yet to learn what rules these barbarians played by—if any.</p>
<p>So he set his ration aside to save for Aramis's return, just in case.</p>
<p>.o.0.o.</p>
<p>Rhaego listened to the echo of dragon shrieks that reverberated through the rock. They rattled the earth and his bones with blood-curdling pain and desperation. It was a relief when they finally stopped, though the underground fortress was anything but quiet. He could hear men scuffling about, like rats in the dark. He couldn't see anyone though, not from his cage. Not his rider, or Vrita. He threw his head back and belted out a questioning trill.</p>
<p>A few moments later he heard Vrita's answering call. She was here, somewhere. He chirped back: he didn't know where Aramis and Porthos were. She responded that neither did she.</p>
<p>He craned his neck around and tried to gnaw at the metal bindings on his wings, but it was no use. Growling in frustration, he raked his claws across the ground.</p>
<p>"This one's restless," a human said, coming down the passage into sight. There were four others, all carrying poles with small metal loops on the end and acimite tipped spears. Rhaego bared his fangs at them.</p>
<p>"Feisty too," another said.</p>
<p>They started unlocking the door of the cage. As soon as it was open, Rhaego kindled his inner fire and opened his mouth wide to incinerate them all. Yet before he could get a geyser of flames out, one of the men threw a fistful of refroidi into his mouth. He jerked back, choking and coughing as his fire instantly fizzled out.</p>
<p>The humans poured in, hooking their poles around the notches in the metal collar around his neck. Rhaego tried to rear away but their distributed weight and pull forced his head down. They used the leverage to start dragging him out of the cage. He tried to dig his feet in, but another man circled around behind him and jabbed one of the acimite spears at his leg.</p>
<p>"Go on, get!"</p>
<p>Rhaego snarled in response and fought the entire way that they hauled him down the tunnel. But it didn't do any good and they eventually reached an opening into a cavern. Then they started to unhook the poles from the collar and Rhaego snapped his jaws at the men, aiming to take their heads off. But the ones with spears were ready and thrust the points at his face. One blade scratched his cheek and he recoiled sharply with a hiss of pain.</p>
<p>The men continued to force him to retreat until he'd fully entered the cavern, and then a gate was brought down between him and the guards. He whipped his head around at his new surroundings, gaze jerking every which way as his senses were overloaded. Torchlight flickered across the walls high up. Noise rippled from an upper balcony. He could smell blood mixed with sediment, sweat, and the heightened musk of excited humans pressed together.</p>
<p>Movement caught his eye and he shrieked at it. People were gathered in the balconies. Rhaego took an instant disliking to them, but there was a ring of sharpened stakes extending out from the base of the balcony, not that Rhaego could launch himself that high with his wings strapped painfully against his back.</p>
<p>Grinding gears had him whipping around as a large gate on the opposite end of the cavern was drawn up. He straightened as another dragon came shuffling through, collared and wings bound just like his. It had a jagged scar running down one side of its face through a gnarled eye socket.</p>
<p>The other dragon snapped its head to the side, fixing Rhaego with its one good eye. Its nostrils flared and it let out a piercing screech as it started to stalk around the perimeter of the pit.</p>
<p>Rhaego reflexively flinched and cowed slightly. Normally he didn't back down from strange dragons encroaching on his space, but he didn't like this, didn't like the excited whoops that rippled through the watching crowd above.</p>
<p>He tentatively called out to the dragon, telling it he didn't want to fight. The beast's eyes flashed, but the only response Rhaego got was a rapid burst of "fight," "eat," "kill." This wasn't a dragon that had spent much time among humans, learning their language. Or, at least, not outside this place.</p>
<p>This was a wild dragon, held in captivity and conditioned for one thing: battle.</p>
<p>Belting out a challenging roar that vibrated off the walls, the dragon charged. Rhaego tried to scamper out of the way at first, but he had nowhere to go. Forced to fight or die, he spun around and snapped his jaws at his advancing foe.</p>
<p>The other dragon reared back but swiped his claws at Rhaego instead. They caught him across the chest, scoring shallow gouges through his scales. He screeched in pain and lunged, tackling the other dragon and rolling across the ground in a lightning storm of gnashing teeth and talons.</p>
<p>He buried his fangs in the other dragon's shoulder; the brute latched onto his foreleg and pierced him down to the bone. Blood flew in splatters and flecks in every direction. Above, the crowd roared and hollered and banged the walls.</p>
<p>Rhaego hit the wall and cried out, loosing his hold on his foe as the impact jarred through the metal fetters on his wings. The other dragon swung its head and head butted him, slamming him into the wall again. Rhaego rolled and kicked out with his back legs, raking his claws down the other dragon's belly. It reeled back with a shriek and retreated, limping to the other end of the pit.</p>
<p>Rhaego rolled back onto his stomach, panting heavily. There were murmurs from above, some angry shouts. The other dragon didn't move, so neither did Rhaego.</p>
<p>Finally, after several more moments, a loud voice called out that it was a draw. Disappointed yells went up from the balcony. The other dragon's gate opened and it immediately turned to hobble toward it, leaving a trail of blood behind in its wake. Once it was through and the gate shut again, the one near Rhaego was drawn up. He simply stared at it, body thrumming with pain and weakness.</p>
<p>A couple of minutes later, the men with spears and poles filed in and spread out to surround him. Rhaego snarled and tried to muster the energy to attack, but they were quick and had him hooked in a matter of seconds. He resisted being dragged back to his cage on principle, though once again it did little good and only exacerbated his wounds. They locked him up and left him alone, and only then did he collapse in exhaustion.</p>
<p>He heard Vrita's throaty trumpet calling out to him, asking if he was okay. He glanced over his wounds and didn't know what to say. Her calls turned even more anxious and he finally responded that he was here. It was the best he could offer. Vrita was quiet for a moment before once again asking if he was okay.</p>
<p>He didn't answer and instead curled in on himself to lick his wounds. He was not okay at all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aramis's second day in the fight ring, he and his opponent were given swords. He didn't know if that was typical to give some variety to the fights or if someone had mentioned his fighting style when he and Porthos had first been taken captive. Either way, he did much prefer the sword to brawling, which was more Porthos's niche.</p>
<p>So far they had managed to gather a limited understanding of Gunther's operation here—there were some other men held as prisoners for the fights, but there were also some who threw their names into the ring for the chance to earn monetary winnings if they came out victorious. Not every fight ended in death…though Aramis got the distinct impression that death would also be an acceptable form of triumph over one's opponent.</p>
<p>Still, he had yet to take a life and he didn't plan to as long as he was here. He wouldn't kill as someone else's sick form of entertainment.</p>
<p>What he was really worried about, though, was Rhaego and Vrita. The dragon fights sounded vicious, enraged roars sometimes echoing all the way down to Aramis's and Porthos's cell. Rhaego and Vrita were formidable in their own right, but being forced into a cage fight once or maybe even twice a day…even they couldn't keep that up and continue to come out unscathed.</p>
<p>Aramis circled his opponent, a red-haired man with a wicked gleam in his eye that suggested he was relishing this fight. Not likely another prisoner, then, but someone who wanted to test his mettle and maybe earn a few coins doing so. If he lost the fight, his entry fee went to Gunther. Aramis's stomach churned with the knowledge that throwing the fight wouldn't do him any favors, that either way, one of these bastards would win and the only thing Aramis could do was try to stay alive.</p>
<p>His opponent lunged with a battle cry. Aramis parried and riposted, their swords clashing with raucous screeches. His foe was skilled enough, matching him blow for blow. Aramis increased the intensity of his attack, forcing the other man to go on the defensive. Aramis drove him backward toward the wall, but Red realized what was happening and darted away before he ended up with his back against it.</p>
<p>They stalked around each other again before resuming the duel. Aramis probably would have knocked this guy flat on his ass any other day, but running on little sleep, rationed food, and bearing the aches of the previous day's fights had put a strain on his normally quick reflexes. Red feinted left, and Aramis fell for it, leaving his side exposed. His opponent slashed him across the ribs. The crowd cheered at first blood being spilled.</p>
<p>Aramis staggered back, hissing in pain as he glanced at the wound. He didn't think it was that deep but it stung like hell and stained the rent edges of his shirt red. This was taking a turn for the worse fast.</p>
<p>Red leered at him with eager anticipation and charged. Sucking in a sharp breath, Aramis ducked under his swing and sliced his own blade up his opponent's back. Red howled and staggered, almost going down on one knee. Aramis knew he had to finish it before he lost any more blood, so he gritted his teeth and stabbed his blade through Red's back. The crowd went wild.</p>
<p>He jerked his sword out and stumbled backward as Red hit the dirt, unmoving. He hadn't wanted to take a life in this sordid manner, but it was him or Red, and Aramis chose to live.</p>
<p>One of the gates opened and the guards came in, two to collect Red's body and remove it from the ring. Aramis turned to the others, sword still in hand. But they were armed with pistols and there was no way he could take them all out with blood streaming down his side. So he let the sword fall to the ground. The lead guard beckoned him forward with his pistol and Aramis reluctantly headed out of the arena to be taken back to his cell.</p>
<p>Porthos leaped to his feet at their return, standing back until Aramis was back in the cell and the door locked. "What the hell happened?" he exclaimed, rushing forward to take Aramis's arm and help him over to sit against the wall.</p>
<p>"We used swords this time," he said, grimacing as he slid down to the ground. He grunted and pressed a hand against his ribs, feeling the wet tackiness that slicked the fabric to the wound.</p>
<p>"How bad?" Porthos asked urgently.</p>
<p>"Could be worse," Aramis replied. He groaned again under another spike of pain. "Could be better." He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, then turned his attention to the wound and carefully pulled his shirt up. The gash was six inches long and, as he'd suspected, not very deep. But it could use stitches and they didn't exactly have any of those supplies at their disposal.</p>
<p>Porthos grabbed the single waterskin they'd been allotted and prepared to pour some water over the wound, but Aramis seized his wrist to stop him.</p>
<p>"We can't be liberal with that," he said regretfully. "My handkerchief is in my coat pocket."</p>
<p>Porthos reached for the coat and fished the folded cloth out. He then dampened it with water but hesitated when he turned back to the gash. "This is gonna hurt," he warned.</p>
<p>Aramis nodded, already bracing himself. "I know."</p>
<p>He sucked in a harsh breath and flinched when Porthos first pressed the damp cloth to his ribs, wiping away whatever dirt may have gotten in it. He was trying to be gentle, Aramis knew, but it still hurt fiercely.</p>
<p>"Gonna need somethin' to bandage it," Porthos grumbled. He cast a regretful look at Aramis. "Yer shirt's already ruined…"</p>
<p>Aramis huffed, but that only sent another wave of pain rocketing through him and his lungs momentarily forgot how to breathe through it. Porthos took hold of the bottom hem of his shirt and ripped a long strip off, which he then used to wrap around Aramis's torso.</p>
<p>"Dammit, this ain't even clean."</p>
<p>"I know," Aramis said quietly. He knew exactly how unfavorable their conditions were.</p>
<p>Noise drew their attention to the door as one of the guards brought Aramis's post-fight meal.</p>
<p>"Hey!" Porthos barked. "We need water and clean bandages."</p>
<p>The guard set the plate through the bars, ignoring him.</p>
<p>"It's no good if your fighters die outside the ring!"</p>
<p>The guard snorted. "We can always find more fighters." He glanced at Aramis. "You fight until you die. And if you're in no shape to fight, you become dragon food."</p>
<p>.o.0.o.</p>
<p>When d'Artagnan walked into the garrison to report for duty, he automatically veered past the dragon dens to see if Porthos and Aramis had returned. They had been due back three days ago, and while delays were not uncommon, d'Artagnan was starting to get worried. The sight of Rhaego's and Vrita's dens empty did nothing to alleviate that concern.</p>
<p>He strode toward the other end of the garrison yard and found Athos sitting at their usual table, nursing a cup of water.</p>
<p>"They're two days late," d'Artagnan said without preamble.</p>
<p>Athos flicked a look up at him, then set his cup down. "I know."</p>
<p>"Shouldn't we do something about it?"</p>
<p>Before Athos could answer, the captain's door opened and shut above, and the rest of the garrison was assembling for muster. D'Artagnan would have to hold his impatience for a few moments as he stepped into line. Treville went through the roster, assigning duties. Both d'Artagnan and Athos had been given the task of inspecting the weapons in the armory to make sure they were all in good condition.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan found it very hard to hold his tongue until the rest of the musketeers were dismissed, and then he hastened after the captain before he could head back up the stairs to his office.</p>
<p>"Captain, Aramis and Porthos still aren't back. Someone should go look for them."</p>
<p>Treville turned, expression lined as though he'd been expecting the topic. "Unfortunately, most of the dragon riders are out on missions of their own."</p>
<p>"Captain," Athos put in, stepping up to join them. "I'm sure the armory can wait. Savron and I can make a pass along the route they would have taken. I agree with d'Artagnan; it's not like them to be this late without sending word."</p>
<p>Treville nodded grimly; he also knew his men.</p>
<p>"I'll be Athos's backup," d'Artagnan added. "In case they are in serious trouble." He arched a brow at the captain as though asking permission, but they all knew he really wasn't.</p>
<p>Treville huffed. "Fine."</p>
<p>But he didn't seem that put off by d'Artagnan's audacity. In fact, d'Artagnan had the inkling that the captain had assigned him and Athos such a menial task in the armory so they would be free to go looking for their missing friends.</p>
<p>"Find them, gentlemen," Treville added over his shoulder as he climbed the steps.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan exchanged a sober look with Athos. What kind of trouble could have waylaid two musketeers and their dragons?</p>
<p>.o.0.o.</p>
<p>Vrita scrambled away from the dragon trying to take a bite out of her and lumbered over to the other side of the arena. It snarled at her in frustration. She growled back deep in her throat. Above them the crowd of humans booed and jeered.</p>
<p>The dragon came at her again, and again she shambled out of the way, giving him a warning snap in the face when he got too close. He glowered at her, not entirely sure what to do. She refused to fight him. He gnashed his teeth, barking at her to play her part. She curled her lip up. She would not. Turning her gaze up to the spectators, she reared up on her hindquarters and kindled her fire. Then, with every ounce of strength and fury, she spewed a stream of scorching flame as high as she could.</p>
<p>There were screams as the flames licked the edge of the balcony and the people at that arch scattered. Vrita dropped back down to all fours and bared her teeth. Maybe if she could climb partway up the sides of the cavern…</p>
<p>The other dragon was watching her carefully, piqued gaze shifting from her to the people above. At least he'd stopped his attack. Vrita craned her neck around, intending on unleashing <em>her</em> fury on the puny humans…</p>
<p>The gates creaked as they were drawn up and guards poured in from both ends, all armed with spears and poles. The other dragon immediately cowed at their arrival and allowed himself to be snared and led away.</p>
<p>Snarling, Vrita spun toward the men advancing on her and lunged with a snap of her jaws. The man scrambled backwards to avoid getting his head bitten off. But just like the previous times, these men were well coordinated as they surrounded her, forcing her back against the wall with their spears that easily pierced her hide. The hook poles snagged her collar and that was it—she was dragged out and back to her cage.</p>
<p>"This one just might not be viable for the ring," one of the humans in charge commented.</p>
<p>The man wearing the animal pelt considered her with shrewd eyes for a long moment. She glowered back at him and sneered.</p>
<p>"I'm not so sure about that," he said thoughtfully. "I think I know a way to make her fight."</p>
<p>.o.0.o.</p>
<p>Porthos glowered at the guards as he was returned to his cell after another fight in the ring. He'd won again, though he had a few more bruises to show for it. The ones he really wanted to pound his fists into, though, were the men running these despicable fights for <em>sport</em>. Porthos was almost tempted to, too, every time he came and went from the ring, but it wasn't just himself he had to worry about here.</p>
<p>The guards left and he turned and hastened to Aramis's side where the marksman sat propped against the back wall, eyes closed. His pallor was pale, almost on the verge of ashen. Porthos glanced at the red-tinged rag of a bandage and hung his head. There was no way Aramis would be able to go into the ring like this and not be killed. Maybe Porthos could take his place…buy him some time to heal some before he'd be forced to fight again.</p>
<p>Aramis lolled his head and opened his eyes. "You all right?" he asked.</p>
<p>Porthos forced out a grim smile. "Still in one piece."</p>
<p>They fell silent, both of them too exhausted to keep up much conversation. Footsteps sounded down the passage and Porthos got to his feet, bracing for a fight if it was Aramis they were coming for. His heart lurched when Gunther appeared with the guards.</p>
<p>"Which of you does the green dragon belong to?" Gunther asked.</p>
<p>Porthos stiffened. "What have you done to her?" he snarled.</p>
<p>"You then? Hm, that's unfortunate. You're becoming quite the champion in the ring. On the other hand, she might consider your friend the equivalent of a den mate."</p>
<p>"Why does that matter?" Aramis spoke up, eyes narrowed on Gunther.</p>
<p>"While I don't subscribe to the King's method of taming dragons, I can make use of it here. Bring them both."</p>
<p>Porthos clenched his fists as the cell was opened and the guards streamed in. Aramis struggled to push himself to his feet on his own power before he was roughly seized and dragged out. Porthos had to suppress the urge to fight back. They were outnumbered and half the guards had their pistols out and ready to shoot at any sign of rebellion.</p>
<p>They were led back to the arena and thrust inside. Porthos frowned in confusion and trepidation. Above, murmurs and hushed voices rippled through the audience. A few minutes later, one of the larger gates was drawn up and Vrita was forced through. She was a snarling, spitting force of fury, but the handlers knew how to keep a safe distance.</p>
<p>"Vrita!" Porthos shouted.</p>
<p>She whipped her head toward him. The guards unhooked their poles and scampered back through the gate as it was brought down, locking her in with them. Porthos had no idea what they were planning, but he was relieved to see his dragon and jogged toward her. She lumbered over to meet him, chirping urgently as she scuffed her nose through his curls.</p>
<p>"I'm here," he said with a small chuckle and sidestepped to inspect her for injuries. There were a few scratches but nothing major. He patted her shoulder. "You all right, girl?"</p>
<p>She let out a throaty gargle in response, eyes pained; she was as all right as any of them were.</p>
<p>She lifted her head to look over his shoulder as Aramis shuffled toward them, one arm braced across his middle. Vrita narrowed her eyes at the blood on his shirt and snorted in umbrage.</p>
<p>Aramis offered her a weak smile. "Nice to see you too." His expression pinched. "Have you seen Rhaego?"</p>
<p>She ducked her head regretfully.</p>
<p>"He's fine," Porthos immediately said. "He's a scrappy fighter."</p>
<p>There was the sound of creaking gears and another gate started to open. A dragon's shriek echoed through the tunnel, making Porthos's hair stand on end.</p>
<p>"Hey, dragon," Gunther called at them from behind the bars of the other gate. "You'll have to fight now, or your rider will be dragon food."</p>
<p>Porthos's blood ran cold and he exchanged a horrified look with Aramis as a large black dragon entered the arena. Yellow eyes narrowed on them and the beast's nostrils flared. With a blood-curdling screech, it charged.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>D'Artagnan reached down and picked up Aramis's hat off the ground in the small glade on the edge of the forest. "It doesn't look like there was an attack," he said, casting a confused look over the saddles and bags that sat undisturbed save for animals having dug out some of the packed rations. Other than that it didn't appear that anything had been rifled through.</p>
<p>Athos stood across from him, also surveying the scene. "They stopped to let Vrita and Rhaego hunt," he surmised.</p>
<p>"If something happened to Aramis and Porthos, the dragons would have come back to the garrison for help," d'Artagnan said.</p>
<p>"They would have gone after their riders first," Athos corrected.</p>
<p>"But then where are they now?" he pressed.</p>
<p>Athos studied the abandoned supplies for another long moment, not that it seemed to give him any insight.</p>
<p>A twig snapping had them both reaching for their swords and whirling toward the sound. A trapper walked out behind some bushes, a brace of rabbits slung across his shoulders. He froze upon seeing them.</p>
<p>"Scuse me," he said, taking a step back. "I was just passin' through."</p>
<p>"Do you frequent this area?" Athos asked.</p>
<p>The man shifted nervously. "Sometimes," he said vaguely.</p>
<p>"We're looking for two musketeer dragon riders who may have run into some trouble here," Athos went on. "Did you notice anything in the past few days?"</p>
<p>The man flicked a harried gaze past them to where Savron stood at the edge of the trees, silently watching. "Dragon riders," he repeated, mouth sounding suddenly dry.</p>
<p>"Yes, did you see them?" d'Artagnan asked. "A red and a green one."</p>
<p>The man shook his head, but there was a shifty look in his eyes now. "No, I haven't seen 'em. But dragons crossing this territory do so at their own risk."</p>
<p>Athos narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"</p>
<p>The trapper glanced around as though afraid they weren't alone. "Nothin'. You should take your dragon and leave."</p>
<p>"Not without finding out what happened to our friends," d'Artagnan said, taking a firm step forward. "If you know something…"</p>
<p>"I don't know about your friends," the man insisted. "And if Gunther hears I was talkin' about him…"</p>
<p>"Who's Gunther?" Athos asked.</p>
<p>The trapper shook his head.</p>
<p>"No one has to know you told us," d'Artagnan interjected, giving him a beseeching look.</p>
<p>He hesitated another moment longer, then said, "He runs a fight ring. His men roam the lands looking for dragons to capture for the sport. I hear he sometimes takes men too."</p>
<p>D'Artagnan threw a horrified look at Athos. "Do you think that's where they ended up?"</p>
<p>Athos didn't respond. "Where is this fight ring?" he asked the trapper.</p>
<p>"In a small valley east of here. There's an old fortress Gunther has set up his operation in."</p>
<p>Athos nodded. "Thank you."</p>
<p>The man faltered, but then took the dismissal and hurried away.</p>
<p>Athos waved Savron forward and began packing up Aramis's and Porthos's saddlebags.</p>
<p>"So, we're heading there, right?" d'Artagnan asked.</p>
<p>"Yes," Athos replied. "But we'll go on foot." He lifted one of the bags to sling over Savron's back. "Stay high in the sky. We don't want to draw the attention of these dragon trappers."</p>
<p>Savron let out a plaintive warble in response.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan, who was getting better at understanding the nuances of dragon expressions, pulled out his pocket mirror. "We can signal you with this if we need help."</p>
<p>Athos nodded in approval and went to grab the other saddlebag to secure to Savron's back. "All right?" he asked.</p>
<p>Savron bobbed his head affirmatively.</p>
<p>"Then let's go."</p>
<p>It was a long walk to the valley the trapper had told them about. D'Artagnan thought they could have at least ridden Savron partway, but he understood it wouldn't do them any good to get him captured as well, and the altitude the silverback was currently flying at was too high for humans to tolerate.</p>
<p>The fortress was where the trapper said it was, an ancient castle that looked like an abandoned ruin from a distance. As they got closer though, d'Artagnan spotted guards stationed at one of the gates.</p>
<p>The men didn't address them as they walked up, merely narrowed their eyes.</p>
<p>"We're here for the fights," Athos said.</p>
<p>"As contenders or spectators?" one guard asked.</p>
<p>"Spectators."</p>
<p>"That's five sou. Each."</p>
<p>D'Artagnan glanced at Athos, who wordlessly pulled out his coin purse and handed over the entry fee for both of them.</p>
<p>"Betting's already closed for this round," the guard informed them as he opened the gate to grant them admittance. "Also, no weapons are allowed in the balcony."</p>
<p>D'Artagnan's jaw tightened as two more guards inside stepped into their path and waited expectantly. He didn't like handing over his sword and pistol, but they couldn't risk giving themselves away yet, if Aramis and Porthos truly were here.</p>
<p>Athos said nothing as he unclipped his pistol and sword and handed them over. D'Artagnan reluctantly did the same. Only then were they allowed to venture further into the castle, following a corridor lit with torches that led them down a set of wide stairs into what would have been the dungeon. But they came out into a balcony that rimmed what looked like a large cavern, a mass of people pressed up against the balustrades. Snarls echoed off the cave walls.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan and Athos pushed their way through the crowd until they came to an opening where they could see what was so captivating. D'Artagnan's heart jumped into his throat. Nearly two stories below, Vrita was brawling with a black dragon while Aramis and Porthos kept trying to scramble out of their way. Both beasts had spiked collars and irons around their wings.</p>
<p>The black dragon rammed Vrita back into the wall so hard dust broke loose. She shrieked and sagged, struggling to get back up.</p>
<p>"Vrita!" Porthos shouted.</p>
<p>The black dragon whipped its gaze toward him with a hiss. Before it could charge at him though, Vrita snapped her jaws around its foreleg and yanked. It stumbled and twisted back to go for her jugular.</p>
<p>Porthos darted out into the center of the ring and scooped up some dirt, which he tossed at the black dragon's face, earning another enraged screech. The brief distraction gave Vrita the opportunity to tackle the black dragon. Porthos darted out of their tumbling path and back to the edge of the pit where Aramis was.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan gripped the balcony ledge with white knuckles, unable to do anything but watch with suspended breath as Vrita and the black dragon continued to fight, until finally she tore out a chunk from its shoulder and it let out a blood-curdling cry before hobbling away.</p>
<p>People in the audience crowed and cheered. D'Artagnan was going to be sick.</p>
<p>Gates down in the arena were pulled up and the black dragon quickly retreated through one. Porthos hurried to Vrita's side as guards rushed in with onyx-tipped spears and hooked poles. Vrita spat and hissed at them, lowering her head protectively around Porthos.</p>
<p>"Tell her to stand down," someone called out.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan had been so focused on Vrita that he hadn't seen the men coming out from another tunnel and grabbing Aramis, placing a knife to his throat. Porthos glared daggers at them, but after a strained moment, he turned to Vrita as though talking quietly to her. D'Artagnan wanted nothing more than to launch himself over the balcony ledge and come to his friends' defense as Porthos moved back and was seized. Vrita growled in protest but as soon as a knife was brought to Porthos's throat, she submitted to the guards.</p>
<p>"We need to leave," Athos said in d'Artagnan's ear.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan hesitated, watching as his brothers disappeared into a shaft, then turned to follow Athos out. They were given their weapons back, no one the wiser about their identity, even though they hadn't bothered to remove their pauldrons before entering. Maybe the outer minions didn't know they had two musketeers captive down there.</p>
<p>"We have to rescue them," d'Artagnan declared as soon as they were out of earshot of the guards.</p>
<p>"We need a plan," Athos replied.</p>
<p>"What about reinforcements from the garrison?"</p>
<p>"Half the dragon riders are out and it will take too long to deploy the rest of the regiment, in which time Aramis and Porthos could be thrown into the ring again. They already looked to be barely hanging on in that round."</p>
<p>D'Artagnan clenched his fists. "We need to gain access to the lower levels, find where they're being kept. There has to be another entrance, one large enough to get dragons inside."</p>
<p>Athos nodded, then pulled up short. "I have an idea."</p>
<p>.o.0.o.</p>
<p>They did a circuit of the fortress first, locating a large gate in the rear that could admit a dragon to the underground complex. Then they went a short distance away and signaled Savron with d'Artagnan's pocket mirror, hoping any dragon hunters would be hunting further away from their own base of operations. Athos explained the plan to his dragon before taking a coil of rope from his saddlebag and fashioning a bridle out of it. A set of chains would have been more appropriate, but they didn't have one of those at their disposal. Athos then removed the saddle and bags and tucked it away under some brush.</p>
<p>"I hope this works," d'Artagnan remarked as they started back toward the castle.</p>
<p>Athos didn't say anything.</p>
<p>There were no guards that they could see but there must have been a lookout spot, for the gates opened at their arrival.</p>
<p>"Who are you and state your business!" someone called out sharply.</p>
<p>"I'm here to see Gunther," Athos replied. "I have a business proposition for him."</p>
<p>There were several uncertain looks exchanged among the men before the one who spoke told them to wait here. Athos didn't have to try to appear bored, whereas d'Artagnan was having a difficult time keeping still.</p>
<p>A short while later, a man with a fur cloak strode out to meet them. "I hear you got a business deal for me," he said, eyes flashing eagerly over Savron. "Come to sell me a dragon?"</p>
<p>"Not exactly," Athos replied. "I am the Comte de la Fère. I know men can enter themselves as contenders in your fights; I'd like to submit my dragon. For a commission fee, of course."</p>
<p>Gunther narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I got plenty of dragons. Why should I spend coin on yours?"</p>
<p>"Because fresh blood is always good for entertainment," Athos went on nonchalantly. "Also, as he is my beast, you won't have to worry about his keep or feed."</p>
<p>Gunther flicked another hungry look at Savron before turning back to Athos skeptically. "You hold him with just a rope? No chains? No fetters?"</p>
<p>"He is well trained." Athos turned to his dragon. "Down," he commanded.</p>
<p>Savron ducked his head submissively and lowered his belly to touch the ground. Athos was grateful his dragon was a good actor; he could just imagine how their entire act would be blown if it were Rhaego they had to bring in undercover.</p>
<p>Gunther scrutinized them for several long moments before his face finally cracked into a sneer. "You only get a percentage if your dragon wins."</p>
<p>Athos pretended to consider it for a second. "Very well."</p>
<p>"Don't know how much of a fight he'll put up, cowed like that," Gunther went on. "But if you're willing to risk the loss…"</p>
<p>Athos's eye twitched a fraction. This man would see his dragon's might unleashed soon enough.</p>
<p>"Bring him in," Gunther said.</p>
<p>Athos shared a look with d'Artagnan as they ventured into the underground fortress. The gates closed behind them, sealing their fate if their plan didn't work out.</p>
<p>"We'll queue him up for the next fight," Gunther said as he led the way down a tunnel. "The dragon passages are this way."</p>
<p>Athos glanced up and down adjoining shafts, which seemed to run in a vast, interlocking network. It would be a challenge not getting lost.</p>
<p>They entered one passage with large cages set into the stone. Athos caught sight of russet red and nudged d'Artagnan to get his attention. There was no sign of Vrita, or Aramis and Porthos, but one look at the marksman's dragon curled up in the corner and shaking, and Athos was done with the ruse.</p>
<p>"Savron," he said, the only cue his dragon needed to launch into action. Athos tugged the lead rope, undoing the slip knot in the bridle so it immediately fell off. Savron whirled toward the set of guards following them and smacked them with his foreleg so viciously they went slamming into the wall and crumpled to the ground.</p>
<p>"What are—"</p>
<p>Athos grabbed Gunther by the front of his shirt and flung him to the ground next. Savron stomped a foot down on him, pinning him in place while Athos pawed through the man's pockets in search of keys. He found a set and tossed them to d'Artagnan, who rushed to unlock Rhaego's cage.</p>
<p>Rhaego lifted his head, flinching away at first until he recognized the young Gascon.</p>
<p>"Hey," d'Artagnan coaxed. "Easy. We're getting you out of here."</p>
<p>Rhaego slowly pushed himself up on unsteady legs and hobbled out of the cage with d'Artagnan.</p>
<p>"Where's Vrita?"</p>
<p>The russet dragon belted out a trumpet call, which was answered a moment later by a similar one down a nearby corridor.</p>
<p>"You go," Athos said. "I'll find Aramis and Porthos."</p>
<p>D'Artagnan gave a sharp nod and placed a hand on Rhaego's neck. "Can you lead me to Vrita?"</p>
<p>Rhaego started shuffling down the tunnel, and d'Artagnan followed.</p>
<p>Athos fixed a menacing glare on Gunther. "Where are the human prisoners kept?"</p>
<p>"You think you can cross me?" the man seethed.</p>
<p>Savron opened his mouth and roared right in Gunther's face, spraying him with spit and sweltering dragon's breath. For all his bravado and disparaging treatment of dragons, that left him a blithering mess on the ground.</p>
<p>Athos nodded to Savron, who lifted his foot, and then hauled Gunther to his feet. "You will take us there now, or I won't stop my dragon from eviscerating you right here."</p>
<p>Gunther gestured shakily down another passage. Athos shoved him forward to lead the way. They hadn't gone very far before a group of guards rounded a corner up ahead and pulled up short in alarm. Savron ducked his head low to the ground and spewed forth a geyser of fire that washed across the floor and swept the men up in its wave. Athos craned his neck away from the blistering heat.</p>
<p>The flames quickly died down and they pressed forward until they came upon a row of cells with a handful of men in them.</p>
<p>Athos grabbed Gunther roughly and slammed him against the wall. "The musketeers you took prisoner. Where are they?"</p>
<p>"Second juncture- on the right," he gritted out.</p>
<p>Athos cast a look at the other prisoners; they'd have to come back for them. He shoved Gunther forward again, taking the second passage that opened up on the right. A single guard was coming toward him and Athos whipped out his pistol to shoot him down. He quickly passed Gunther back to Savron to keep in check while he bent down to search this guard for another set of keys. He found one.</p>
<p>"Athos?" a voice called incredulously.</p>
<p>Athos quickened his pace down the corridor until he spotted a familiar face peering through the bars.</p>
<p>"I don' believe it," Porthos uttered. "How'd you find us?"</p>
<p>"Long story," Athos replied, fitting various keys in the lock to find the right one. On the third, the lock clicked and the door opened.</p>
<p>Porthos hurried to the back of the cell and reached down to haul Aramis to his feet, slinging the marksman's arm over his shoulder. Athos frowned at Aramis's state; he hadn't seen from the spectator balcony that he was injured, but his shirt had a tear in the side and was tinged with dried blood. He was pale and unsteady on his feet as well.</p>
<p>"I'm really glad to see you," Aramis said with a breathless wince.</p>
<p>"We have to find our dragons," Porthos said urgently.</p>
<p>"D'Artagnan has Rhaego and they were on their way to Vrita," Athos assured him as he stepped in to help take some of his brother's weight.</p>
<p>Porthos briefly transferred all of Aramis's support to Athos and went back to snatch up their coats.</p>
<p>Outside the cell, Savron had Gunther pinned against the wall with his fangs bared in the man's face.</p>
<p>"You won't make it out of here," he spat at them.</p>
<p>An echoing dragon roar resounded from deep in the underground fortress, followed by distant screams. Savron cocked his head toward it. Athos figured it was one of his den mates.</p>
<p>"I beg to differ," he replied, letting Porthos take all of Aramis's weight again so he could draw his sword and grab Gunther.</p>
<p>They made their way back toward the other cells and Athos unlocked one, then passed the key to that man to open the rest.</p>
<p>"Are there any other prisoners in another passage?" he asked.</p>
<p>"Don't think so," one of them answered.</p>
<p>Once all the fighters were free, they began making their way back through the tunnels toward the place they'd come in at. Gunther's men were scrambling now at the ruckus and were heavily armed, but as two more loose dragons came through another tunnel, belching fire and snapping at the closest targets, the guards started to cut their losses and flee.</p>
<p>"Rhaego," Aramis called breathlessly.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan hurried over to them, Rhaego and Vrita hobbling behind him, as the other freed prisoners went to open the gates.</p>
<p>"Hey," d'Artagnan said, brow furrowing with worry as he looked over Aramis and Porthos. He turned to Athos. "There's four other dragons down here."</p>
<p>Athos pursed his mouth in consideration. He passed Gunther to d'Artagnan. "Get everyone out and clear the area outside the gates." He then cocked his head for Savron to follow him back into the depths of the underground fortress. They weren't finished here.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn't difficult for Savron to track down the other dragons in their cages, but once they did, Athos found himself facing a tricky situation. It wasn't right to leave the dragons like this, and by the looks of them, they were too wild and feral for Bonacieux to come in and tame, not after the life of forced cage fights they'd been subjected to. Such rehabilitation would take tremendous effort and Athos knew the King wouldn't want to waste his resources on it.</p>
<p>He looked up at his dragon. "What do you think?" he asked quietly.</p>
<p>Savron cocked his head and stepped up to one cage. The pale green dragon inside hissed and spat. Savron didn't react, simply stared down the dragon until it began to flinch under that relentless gaze. Athos didn't know what was being communicated between them, but Savron was a natural alpha, and after several minutes, the green dragon had lowered its belly and head to the ground and gone silent.</p>
<p>Savron turned and shuffled down to the next cage and repeated the process. The last dragon was the most difficult, a viciously scarred beast that thrashed and raged in its cage so much that Athos thought it would harm itself. Savron remained unflappable, exerting his dominance out of sheer presence alone and not any need to roar back at the resistant dragon.</p>
<p>The beast eventually began to submit, pitiful whines gurgling in its throat. Savron let out a chirp that sounded soothing. He then turned to Athos and nodded.</p>
<p>Athos exhaled heavily as he gripped the set of keys. He hoped they weren't making a mistake.</p>
<p>He went to the first dragon's cage, the pale green one, and unlocked it. The dragon visibly tensed, eyes rolling wildly to keep him in sight. Savron barked out a throaty call, and the dragon slowly rose to its feet. Athos was careful not to make any sudden movements as he went to the next cage, and the next.</p>
<p>He hesitated at the last one, but Savron nudged his shoulder, so he proceeded to open it. Then, careful to keep close to his dragon, they began to make their way out of the tunnels.</p>
<p>The sun was bright and the four dragons squawked in discomfort, jerking their heads away from the offending light. One of them bumped into another, eliciting a violent hiss. Savron snapped at them both and they cowed.</p>
<p>Athos quickly moved away from them as they adjusted to the brightness and fresh air. The others had gathered several yards away near the tree line where d'Artagnan and Porthos were wrestling the iron fetters off Vrita's wings. Aramis was leaning against Rhaego and trying to pick the lock on his dragon's collar. Athos strode over and tried the keys on the ring, finding one that worked. He and Aramis slid the collar off and let it drop heavily on the ground.</p>
<p>"There you go," Aramis said, voice rough. "We'll get these wounds tended to."</p>
<p>"And yours," Athos put in, eyeing the way Aramis couldn't even stand on his own and how Rhaego was the only thing holding him up. There was a sheen on Aramis's brow that Athos didn't like.</p>
<p>Savron let out a warbling call and Athos turned. His dragon flared his wings up behind him.</p>
<p>"Right," Athos muttered, looking at the fetters on the other dragons. That should be fun. He waited until d'Artagnan and Porthos had removed Rhaego's irons before asking the young Gascon to help him.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan cast a wary look between him and the dragons. "Really?"</p>
<p>"I trust Savron," he replied, even though he was also nervous. He tried to bear himself confidently though, knowing the dragons would pick up on his anxious energy.</p>
<p>He went to the pale green dragon first, approaching cautiously from the front with Savron standing close and keeping the dragon in check. The animal flinched when he reached for the irons on its wings.</p>
<p>"Easy," he soothed. "We just want to help you."</p>
<p>He could feel the poor thing vibrating with terror as he unlocked the irons. Then with d'Artagnan's help, they removed the heinous contraption from the dragon's back, then quickly moved away to give it space. It didn't immediately react to the freedom, remaining cowed on the ground where it lay. Athos wondered whether these dragons were even in any shape to survive outside the environment they'd been subjected to for who knew how long.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, he and d'Artagnan moved to the next dragon, and the next. Vrita shuffled over and stood next to Savron, adding a steady, calming presence to reinforce the alpha's leadership. The dragons didn't attack them, which Athos was grateful for.</p>
<p>Once all the fetters and collars were removed, the dragons began to shift and move around more, getting used to their newfound freedom.</p>
<p>"What are we going to do with them?" d'Artagnan asked.</p>
<p>Athos's lips thinned. "I don't know."</p>
<p>Savron turned his head toward them and chirped, then cocked his chin up in the air.</p>
<p>"I believe Savron intends to take them somewhere," Athos translated. "Far away from human populations?"</p>
<p>His dragon nodded.</p>
<p>"If they can make it that far," d'Artagnan put in skeptically.</p>
<p>The grey, one-eyed dragon suddenly let out a piercing screech and charged across the field toward where the others were gathered. Athos's heart lurched as he was unable to do anything. Rhaego, to his surprise, didn't leap to attack the dragon, but instead snaked his neck around Aramis and Porthos to shield them, but otherwise didn't move. They weren't the targets.</p>
<p>Gunther screamed as the grey dragon barreled into him, pinning him to the ground. There was a horrendous sound from the man and then nothing. The grey dragon turned back around, snout splashed with red. It let out a heavy snort and shuffled away to collapse on the road alone, body shuddering. After several strained breaths, it went eerily still, head lolling to the side.</p>
<p>No one moved or spoke for several moments.</p>
<p>"Well," d'Artagnan finally said. "That's one form of justice."</p>
<p>Athos silently agreed.</p>
<p>.o.0.o.</p>
<p>They made camp to tend to everybody's wounds, namely Aramis's, Rhaego's, and Vrita's. The other men who had been held prisoner were all quick to leave this place and begin making their way back to their homes. Athos had offered them assistance, but since half of the musketeer party was down for the count, there wasn't much aid they could actually provide at the moment.</p>
<p>Porthos finally got Aramis to stop fussing over Rhaego and helped him over to where he'd set Savron's saddle, easing Aramis down to recline against it. Porthos could feel the fine tremors in his friend's arms and the heat coming off him. With grim expectation, he rolled up Aramis's shirt and began to pick at the dirty bandage underneath.</p>
<p>Aramis hissed sharply and tried to lurch away.</p>
<p>"Sorry," Porthos gushed.</p>
<p>Aramis let out a strained breath. "Fabric's stuck. You'll need…hot water."</p>
<p>"I'm on it," d'Artagnan spoke up from where he was busy getting a fire going.</p>
<p>Athos brought over a roll of fresh bandages and what looked like Aramis's medic kit.</p>
<p>"How?" Porthos asked dubiously.</p>
<p>"We found your camp," Athos replied. "Happened upon a local who knew what Gunther was up to and told us where to come looking. We do, however, have to go back for the saddles."</p>
<p>That was the least of Porthos's concerns at the moment. D'Artagnan got some water heated and brought over a bowl. Athos gingerly soaked the rag bandage over Aramis's wound until it peeled off easily. Porthos stiffened when they got a look at it. The slash was inflamed, the bottom half the angry red of infection.</p>
<p>"It was to be expected," Aramis said quietly.</p>
<p>Porthos squeezed his shoulder. "What do we do?"</p>
<p>Aramis glanced down, then dropped his head back against the saddle behind him. "Clean it out- spirits. Then make a poultice to draw out the infection."</p>
<p>"What about sewin' it up?" Porthos asked.</p>
<p>Aramis shook his head. "Don't want to seal the infection in."</p>
<p>Athos reached for the flask of spirits from the med kit, but Aramis told him to wait, told them how to make the poultice first and tend the dragons since he doubted he'd be able to cling to consciousness once they doused his side in liquid fire.</p>
<p>"I didn't get a good look at Vrita," Aramis went on breathlessly. "You can make the same poultice for them if…needed."</p>
<p>"We got it," Athos assured him, uncapping the flask. "Ready?"</p>
<p>Aramis squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take a deep, steadying breath. Athos waited until the exhalation before pouring the spirits over the wound. Aramis arched off the ground with a strangled gasp, then promptly went limp. Porthos shared a worried look with Athos; it was better for Aramis to be out during this, but the fact that he so quickly passed out this time was a cause for concern.</p>
<p>Athos wordlessly grabbed a clean cloth and began to wipe the wound clean. D'Artagnan had checked Aramis's pouch and they didn't have all the ingredients he'd listed for the poultice, so he headed out into the woods to see if any was growing nearby.</p>
<p>Despite being unconscious, Aramis still shuddered in pain as Athos cleaned the wound.</p>
<p>"Do you have any injuries?" Athos asked Porthos while they waited for d'Artagnan to return.</p>
<p>Porthos shook his head. "Jus' bruises. All of my fights were with fists."</p>
<p>"Until the one with you, Aramis, and Vrita."</p>
<p>"You saw that?"</p>
<p>Athos nodded.</p>
<p>"That was Vrita's fight. Gunther thought me an' Aramis bein' there would force her to fight back." Porthos clenched his fists in renewed anger. "Bastard got what he deserved."</p>
<p>The crunch of leaves announced d'Artagnan's return.</p>
<p>"I found two out of three, which I guess will have to do," the young Gascon reported.</p>
<p>"It will," Athos confirmed and went over to help him make up the poultice.</p>
<p>Porthos glanced nervously at the wild dragons under Savron's watch, but the remaining three were behaving at the moment.</p>
<p>The poultice was finished and d'Artagnan came over to spread the gunk over Aramis's side. Aramis flinched and moaned but didn't wake. With nothing left to do for him, d'Artagnan and Athos went to finish tending Vrita's and Rhaego's wounds. Porthos wanted to help; it was his responsibility to look after his dragon. But Athos, who knew him too well, had merely skewered him with a pointed look as he made his way toward Vrita.</p>
<p>Porthos <em>was</em> exhausted, but he grabbed a fresh cloth and soaked it in the bowl of water d'Artagnan had left, then wrung it out before dabbing at Aramis's brow as his brother shivered with fever. The sun was setting and it would be getting cold soon.</p>
<p>It took almost an hour for Athos and d'Artagnan to finish cleaning all of the dragons' injuries and they'd had to make more poultice twice, but finally Vrita and Rhaego settled down in a patch of cool grass to rest.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan came over and put a hand on Porthos's shoulder, reaching with his other to take the damp cloth. "I'll look after him."</p>
<p>"We should set a watch," he mumbled, still stubbornly trying to fight his exhaustion.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan's lips quirked. "With six dragons? I don't think we do."</p>
<p>Porthos wanted to point out they needed to watch out for three of those dragons suddenly deciding they looked tasty, but the last dregs of his energy were fading fast. He scooted over to lay down on a bedroll someone had laid out without him noticing and he fell asleep within moments.</p>
<p>.o.0.o.</p>
<p>Aramis woke to snuffles and snorts of what sounded like a herd of dragons. He prized his eyelids open and blinked blearily at the canopy of branches and leaves above him. The noises continued and he turned his head toward them. He didn't recognize the three dragons shuffling about on a dirt road several yards away, though he spotted Savron with them, the silverback posturing himself rather watchfully. Behind him were some gates and bones mounted above them… Aramis closed his eyes again. Right, Gunther's fight ring.</p>
<p>He lifted his hand and tenderly touched his side where a low fire pulsed steadily under a bulk of bandages. That was going to smart for a while.</p>
<p>A puff of hot air ruffled his hair and Aramis craned his neck to look behind him. Rhaego was laid out behind him, his nose buried in Aramis's curls. Doleful eyes blinked back at him.</p>
<p>"Rhaego," he breathed hoarsely and stretched his arm back to pat his dragon. Rhaego let out a low keen and snuffled his hair again.</p>
<p>"You're awake," Porthos's voice spoke.</p>
<p>Aramis turned to look for him.</p>
<p>"How're you feelin'?" he asked, coming to kneel beside him.</p>
<p>"Tired," he admitted, then winced. "Sore."</p>
<p>"I haven't looked at yer wound yet," Porthos said, brows knitting together.</p>
<p>Aramis nodded in understanding, but they'd have to check on it at some point. "Let me see?"</p>
<p>Porthos carefully unwound the bandage and then peeled the partially dried poultice off. Aramis grimaced as it tugged some of his flesh.</p>
<p>"Oh," he said. "That's actually better than I was expecting." It was still a little red around the edges but not as pronounced as it'd been yesterday. He felt rather wrecked but not feverish.</p>
<p>"Yeah?" Porthos asked hopefully.</p>
<p>Aramis dropped his head back down, too exhausted to hold it up any longer. "Yeah. Have d'Artagnan make another poultice." He squinted and flicked his gaze around their campsite. "Where's d'Artagnan and Athos?"</p>
<p>"In the fortress checking what supplies they can find," Porthos answered. He got up and moved away, only to return a moment later with a waterskin, which he helped Aramis to drink from.</p>
<p>"And Rhaego and Vrita?" Aramis asked after he'd slaked his thirst. He automatically reached behind him again to feel for his dragon.</p>
<p>"Pretty beat up, though not as bad as you."</p>
<p>"I'll be fine," he murmured.</p>
<p>Porthos snorted. "Yeah, you'd better be."</p>
<p>Aramis drifted for a little bit, though he was still aware of Porthos puttering around the camp and the noises the dragons were making. At least they weren't fighting with each other. Aramis idly wondered what they were going to do with them…</p>
<p>"What'd you find?" Porthos's voice spoke up.</p>
<p>"Some food and other supplies," d'Artagnan replied. "Including some meat we can give to the dragons. Athos is loading up a cart inside. He wanted me to bring this stuff out first."</p>
<p>"Gunther's men?"</p>
<p>"Looks like they abandoned the place."</p>
<p>"Aramis was awake earlier. Said you should make another poultice. Seems like it's working. I'll go help Athos with the meat."</p>
<p>There was the sound of more puttering around and Aramis forced himself fully awake just as d'Artagnan was kneeling down next to him. The young Gascon's face brightened.</p>
<p>"Hey, how're you feeling?"</p>
<p>"Too weak to get up," he replied with an irritated huff. "But the poultice is working."</p>
<p>"So Porthos said." D'Artagnan bent over his wound to see for himself. "Yeah, this looks better." He reached out and placed the back of his hand against Aramis's brow. "Fever's down too."</p>
<p>"Make a medic of you yet," he murmured.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan shot him a wry look, then proceeded to apply the fresh poultice. Aramis flinched at the feeling of cold, slick unguent.</p>
<p>"Sorry," d'Artagnan said.</p>
<p>"It's fine."</p>
<p>He tried to focus on something else, turning his head and catching sight of Porthos and Athos coming out of the fortress with a cart. The dragons perked up, but a bark from Savron had them staying put as Porthos and Athos started tossing slabs of meat their way. When the dragons were contentedly tearing into their individual breakfasts, the two made their way back over to camp.</p>
<p>"What's the plan with the dragons?" Aramis asked.</p>
<p>"Savron wants to lead them into the mountains," Athos replied.</p>
<p>Aramis's brows rose appreciatively; that seemed like the right thing to do.</p>
<p>"How are we gonna get word back to Treville?" d'Artagnan asked.</p>
<p>Athos canted his head. "We can't. Rhaego and Vrita need time to heal and Savron is needed to keep the wild dragons in check."</p>
<p>"So we're stuck here," Porthos summarized.</p>
<p>"For the time being."</p>
<p>None of them suggested moving into the fortress for shelter.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan dug out some food stores to pass around for breakfast. After that, he and Athos went to bury Gunther's body. The body of the dragon who'd killed him, they had to bury under a mound of rocks, a task that took all day.</p>
<p>Aramis was unable to do anything but lay still and not aggravate his wound, which grated on his nerves and his need to be active. But the one time he'd tried to sit up to check on Rhaego had immediately left him collapsed and panting from the strain on his side. Rhaego had whined and pressed his nose into Aramis's hair again and neither of them had moved after that.</p>
<p>Aramis watched Savron coax the wild dragons into unfurling their wings after so much time of disuse. They'd have to get into flying shape before the alpha could lead them to greener pastures.</p>
<p>By the next morning, they were ready to depart, and Aramis felt marginally better with them gone, though he noticed Athos watching them disappear into the sky tensely.</p>
<p>"Savron can handle it," Aramis said.</p>
<p>Athos didn't say anything, but he did go back to work around the camp.</p>
<p>Aramis slowly began to recover once the infection cleared, though he was forced to remain abed since it was too late to stitch the wound and so any little movement ran the risk of pulling the sundered flesh further. At least he wasn't alone in his convalescence; Rhaego remained curled up behind his head, either unwilling or too sore to move. Vrita's wounds weren't as severe and she sometimes paced around their camp but otherwise rested a lot as well. There was plenty of meat in the fortress to keep them fed for a few more days at least, and hopefully it wouldn't take Savron that long to return.</p>
<p>In fact, Savron returned the next day, and it was visibly noticeable how relieved Athos was to see him. Unfortunately, their reunion didn't last long, as Athos had penned a letter to the captain informing him of what happened and now had to ask Savron to take it back to the garrison, as Rhaego and Vrita still weren't in any condition to bear their riders.</p>
<p>And so for the second time they had to watch the silverback fly away.</p>
<p>Fortunately, he returned before the day's end with reinforcements, including Treville and his dragon, Kilgar, along with Jean, who came with more specialized medicine for Rhaego and Vrita.</p>
<p>The musketeers packed up their camp, and Aramis and Porthos were relegated to ride with Cornet and Etienne, and then they all finally headed home.</p>
<p>.o.0.o.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan stood outside the dragon dens in the Musketeer garrison, holding a tray of salves and medicine while Jean and Constance tended to Rhaego and Vrita. They were healing well, as was Aramis. D'Artagnan couldn't help feeling rather morose though.</p>
<p>Constance came out of Vrita's den and picked up a towel off the tray to wipe her hands clean. She furrowed her brow at d'Artagnan. "What's wrong?"</p>
<p>"Nothing."</p>
<p>Constance tossed the towel back onto the tray and put her hands on her hips. "I know that face. You're brooding over something."</p>
<p>He shook his head; he should have known better than to try to hide anything from her.</p>
<p>"I'm just…having second thoughts about Ayelet becoming my dragon when she grows up." He flicked his gaze to Vrita curled up in her den. "I can't bear imagining her getting hurt like this."</p>
<p>Constance's expression sobered in understanding. "I worry about you getting hurt. But you're a musketeer and danger is your occupation."</p>
<p>"Yeah, but I chose that, knowing the risks."</p>
<p>She gave him a soft look and reached out to touch his elbow. "Dragons are natural born warriors. Ayelet will ride into battle with you one day because you are her rider and there is no other place she would choose to go." Constance let out an audible breath. "And while there's always risk, I take comfort in knowing that Athos, Aramis, Porthos, and their dragons are all watching your back. You look out for each other, and that's how you all come home safe."</p>
<p>D'Artagnan's gaze automatically drifted toward the barracks where Aramis was recovering under Porthos's watchful eye. Constance was right; they'd do anything to protect each other, to bring each other home. It was something d'Artagnan had been drawn to from the moment he'd met these men, and it was something worth being a part of, something he wanted Ayelet to be a part of.</p>
<p>This brotherhood of soldiers.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>NEXT TIME</p>
<p>A tragic accident brings Athos and the musketeers to one Ninon de Larroque, and the discovery of witchcraft within her salon will once again challenge Athos's sense of duty.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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